


Something Like This

by evansrogerskitten



Category: Dean Winchester - Fandom, SPN, Supernatural
Genre: A little bit of angst, Dean Cave, Dean being a dick, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Lane’s Write Along Challenge, season 13 spoiler kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 13:52:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14310081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evansrogerskitten/pseuds/evansrogerskitten
Summary: The Dean Cave causes a little drama, prompting Dean to decide what's really important.





	Something Like This

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Lane’s Write Along Challenge. The song inspiration is Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers and Coldplay. Unfortuanetly I've had to remove the lyrics due to AO3's rules. 
> 
> For the purpose of this, I avoided all plot lines from season 13. Only spoiler is that Dean has a man cave now. And based on the bunker floor plan and wiki, I’ve assigned Room #17 as the Dean Cave. 
> 
> Thanks to @andromytta for beta and @letsby for talking it through with me.

Your truck rolled into park in the bunker garage, the engine quieting with a sigh as you turned off the ignition. You stretched your arms as you exited the driver’s side door. It’d been a long four hour drive alone and all you wanted was a shower, a sandwich, and a hug from the guy you’d missed all week.

The door to the hallway smacked open as you descended down the metal stairs.

“You’re here!” Dean announced excitedly. “I’ve been waiting for you!”

As you walked towards him you adjusted your backpack over your shoulder. The first butterflies in your stomach woke as he smiled and grabbed your hand.

“Yeah,” You smiled. “I’m back.”

Dean dragged you down the hallway behind him. “Come on.”

The door to Room 17 was open slightly. Dean nudged it open with his boot and dropped your hand, his arms opening in a dramatic flourish to invite you into the former storage room.

“Here it is!” He announced with a grin, looking around proudly.

“Wow, you guys were busy while I was gone,” You smiled as you walked into the bunker’s new entertainment room. The new set up was a bit overwhelming at first, and you slowly turned in a quarter circle as you took it all in. “When did you do all this? I was only gone on the vamp hunt for a week!”

“When it’s important you make time,” Dean insisted. Sam chuckled behind you, his hip pressed against the door frame.

“Did you help?” You asked as you glanced back at the younger brother.

“No,” Sam shook his head. “This was all Dean. Although I do have to admit it’s kind of awesome.”

“I knew you loved it!” Dean laughed and pointed at his brother. “Growing up, I always wanted something like this. A cool place for Sammy and I to hang out.”

You walked around the room slowly, taking in the decor- the AC/DC and Zeppelin posters, the oversized print of an Impala, the neon lights, and keg lamps. You smiled at the sturdy makeshift bar with vintage glasses and an ice bucket like the ones from motels you stayed in so often. He probably brought it home after a hunt. Your hand brushed along the edge of the foosball table, and you smiled when you saw Dean had meticulously repainted the uniforms on the little plaster players. The 80’s plaid fabric of the recliners was soft under your palms and you were impressed to see his vinyl organized in the new jukebox.

“Ya like it?” Dean carefully watched your reactions to each section of the room.

You nodded, flashing him a smile of approval, “I think it’s awesome. We needed an entertainment room.”

“Fortress of Dean-a-Tude,” He corrected you. “We call it, ummm...we call it the Fortress of Dean-a-Tude.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he walked across the room to pour three beers from the new kegerator. “He calls it that.”

“Well, are girls allowed in your clubhouse?” You teased as your fingertips skimmed over Dean’s CDs and cassettes that were stacked in rows on the far shelves. “Will the superheroes let Wonder Woman into their Batcave?”

Dean shrugged and accepted the beer from his brother. “Not usually, but for you I’ll make an exception.” Familiar butterflies rustled in your stomach as he winked at you. Desire hit you like the weight of a vamp on your back, and you had to take a shallow breath and look down at your beer to compose yourself before speaking.

“Well, uhhh...thanks,” You smiled, meeting his eyes. “Cheers to the Fortress.”

You tapped your glass against each of the brother’s before taking a sip of the cold beer. You were glad to be home.

* * *

Over the next few weeks anytime you weren’t hunting, researching, sleeping, or saving the world, the three of you were watching movies on the flat screen or listening to vinyl in the Dean Cave, which had eventually won out as the room’s moniker. It was a place to get away, a refuge in your already hidden refuge. Dean had done a good thing adding it to the bunker and he was proud of his accomplishment.

You and Sam got quite competitive at foosball, starting a running tally of scores and betting who’d do the dishes over best out of three. While the boys argued over what game to play on Xbox, you set up different liquors at the little bar and tried out different cocktail recipes, coming up with concoctions you’d read about online but never finished after a few sips.

One night you couldn’t sleep so you gathered your own stack of vinyl. Both of the brother’s doors were shut, so you tiptoed down the hall to the Dean Cave alone. The neon lights hummed as you flipped on the switch and shut the door. You installed your own records into the jukebox and pressed the appropriate key, the soft melody of one of your favorite songs filling the room. You pulled your lavender fluffy throw blanket off the shelf and curled up in Dean’s recliner. The room was peaceful as you listened to the music, smiling as you daydreamed about kissing him. You pressed your face against the soft plaid polyester, his lingering scent comforting you as you drifted off to sleep.

* * *

A week passed before Dean said anything about the gradual changes in his new space.

“What the hell is all this?” Dean grumbled as he pushed aside the new coasters you’d (stolen) picked up for the bar. He squinted at the shelves across the room, noticing your throw blanket and matching small pillow, a stack of worn board games, and a silver frame with a selfie of the three of you in Baby.

Dean closed his eyes, reasoning with himself so he didn’t get upset. He cared too much about you to make a big deal of it. He averted his eyes from the fiction novels that were stacked up next to the TV, and decided to leave the room. It was best not to say anything to you until he cooled down. It was just stuff. He shouldn’t get upset about stuff.

But as he walked past the jukebox on his way out he lost his temper. “What the fuck?”

“Dean?” You hurried down the hall when you heard his shout, a basket of warm clean laundry against your hip. “You okay?”

“Did you do this?” His voice was gruff as he pointed at the neon record machine.

“What?” You asked, looking between him and the jukebox. “Play music?”

“No. Add this...this modern rock crap,” He groaned, smoothing his hands down the side of the machine like it had been damaged. “Coldplay? Really? It’s vintage vinyl only!”

“I’m sorry,” You responded, moving your arms so the laundry basket between you. “I just thought cuz I have my vinyl, I could add it too and we could share it…” Your hands were sweating and you swallowed your disappointment when you saw the annoyed glare he flashed at you. You’d been around a pissed off Dean numerous times, but he’d never been angry at you.

“You’re changing everything!” Dean accused loudly, his finger pointing out things he clearly was pissed about. “The blanket, the bar stuff, the books. It’s all just...it’s everywhere!”

Sam appeared in the doorway, watching as his frustrated brother lectured you about the room. Your face that was growing red from embarrassment and rejection. Usually you’d stand up to him, hold your ground and tell him to snap out of it, smack him on the chest if need be. But you cowered backwards as he growled at the jukebox in place of you.

You couldn’t stop your lip from trembling when you realized Dean was truly upset at you for the first time since you’d met a year before. “I wasn’t trying to ruin it or anything. I thought...I thought this was for all of us.”

“Yeah, well, you shoulda asked,” Dean grumbled and turned away, stomping over to the bar to pour a shot of whiskey.

You pushed past Sam, ignoring him as he called out to you.

Sam shook his head at his brother’s hunched, angry shoulders. “Dude, not cool.”

“She shouldn’t have brought all this stuff in without asking.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Sam replied. “This room was supposed to be for all of us. You said that yourself. And considering how you feel about her, don’t you think that you should at least just talk to her about it? Don’t yell at her.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled at his brother as he sank into his recliner. He knew his reaction was uncalled for. It was just a room. But this room wasn’t just stuff. No one else seemed to get that. It was the entertainment room he’d dreamt of having since he was a teenager, when he had no home or space of his own. It meant something to him.

But so did you.

Sam sighed and turned away, closing the door to Room 17 and leaving Dean to his regret.

* * *

The next morning you stopped short when you walked in the kitchen to find both brothers at the table. Sam was in his sweaty running gear, the newspaper spread out in front of him as he sipped a cup of coffee. Dean looked up in alarm, barely meeting your eyes before looking back to his cereal like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

“Morning,” Sam greeted you as you shuffled across the tile floor.

“Morning,” You replied. You poured a cup of coffee, ignoring the shuffling of the paper and the annoyed grunts behind you. The Winchester brothers were known for their silent conversations and right then they were having a silent argument about you.

Sam smiled at you when you turned around. You grabbed a banana from the counter, pausing to let Dean speak if he was going to. When Dean didn’t even look up you left the kitchen, disappointment weighing on your shoulders.

You avoided Dean the rest of the day, reading in your room even though you couldn’t focus on a single plot line. When you heard the Impala leave the garage you ventured into the library to find Sam bent over his laptop as he researched a possible case.

“You okay?” He asked as he looked up.

“I’m alright,” You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Sam, I didn’t mean to piss him off. I was just trying to, I don’t know...help make it nice. I didn’t realize my stuff would upset him.”

“Dean shouldn’t have said what he did. He knows that,” Sam smiled as he tried to console you. “He’ll get over it.”

You nodded before sighing and looking over your shoulder towards the hallway and Room 17. “I guess I should go get my stuff outta there while he’s gone. Unless he’s already tossed it all.”

“Just leave it,” Sam said. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

You smiled weakly, patting his shoulder before leaving him to read. You were going to grab a shower while there wasn’t a chance of running into a grumpy Dean.

A few hours later there was a knock on your door. You paused Netflix and walked across the floor, opening the door to find Sam with a goofy smile on his face.

“What’s up?” You asked hesitantly, curious about the mischievous grin you rarely saw on Sam.

“Come with me. Gotta show ya something,” Sam tilted his head towards the north end of the hallway.

You zipped up your hoodie and slid on your slippers, your outfit of leggings, a tank top, and fuzzy socks needing the extra warmth in the chilly bunker. You followed the tall Winchester down the hallway until you reached 17.

“Sam…” You warned. “He doesn’t want me in there.”

Sam knocked on the door twice before looking down at you. “He does. Just talk to him.”

Before you could reply he was ambling away, the gray tiles swallowing him up.

You looked up in surprise as Dean opened the door moments later.

“Uhhh, Sam...he’s the one...he brought me here,” You stuttered, pointing to the vacant space next to you.

“Good,” Dean nodded solemnly. “I asked him too.”

Dean stepped aside to let you in. Your gasped as walked into the room, the door shutting quietly behind you.

The Dean Cave had been completely transformed. There were white canopies hanging from the center of the ceiling to the corners, gilded paper lanterns the shapes of stars hanging past the edges of fabric to light the dim room. Christmas lights hung across the shelves and the bar, a soft glow illuminating the walls. Bad Company was playing quietly from the jukebox and you heard Dean humming along nervously behind you. The recliners had been moved to the corner and in their place was a billowy white tent perfect for two people to sit inside comfortably.

It was like a fairytale.

You looked over at Dean, your eyes wide as you took in the extraordinary transformation. “You did all this?”

Dean nodded. “Go look.”

You walked closer to the tent, finding the end of it opened up to frame the television perfectly. Inside he’d built a cozy blanket fort. Fluffy blankets were layered below stacks of white pillows, more lights strung along the tent poles. Even your little pillow sat on top of your lavender throw blanket which was folded neatly in a square. Tucked into the corner was the hotel ice bucket, the dewy necks of two beers sticking out of the round edge.

You watched as Dean toed off his boots and then crawled into the tent with a sarcastic groan, adjusting the string of lights above his head as he situated himself on the left side. He searched the blankets for the TV remote, setting it on his thigh before turning to open the first beer. He smiled when he looked up to find you still staring at him in awe.

“Well, ya comin’ in?” He teased, beckoning you with the open beer.

You giggled as you kicked off your slippers and climbed in, taking the bottle once you were seated next to him. There was the perfect amount of pillows to lean against, and you could tell there was a mattress underneath supporting the nest of blankets. He’d built a perfect little hideaway for just the two of you.

“Dean, I…” You started to apologize, realizing how much work it must’ve taken to set all of this up and how he’d changed his special room for you. Even if it was temporary, the sweet gesture was overwhelming.

“What movie do you want to watch?” He smiled. “I got Cap. Wanna watch Cap?”

You nodded, curling your legs under the top blanket he tugged up over the two of you. Dean pressed play and the familiar Marvel intro song began to play. Your heart was fluttering as he settled against the pillows, tugging you closer to him as he put his arm around you. You looked up at his handsome face, watching his long lashes as they brushed across the circles under his eyes, the green irises soft in the imitation starlight.

“You’re missing the movie,” He looked down at you. For a moment you forgot what you were going to say. You’d never noticed there was a little gold speckled into the olive of his eyes.

“Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess up your cave,” You apologized again, your fingers nervously fiddling with the buttons on his plaid. Your face flushed as you felt his hand rubbing up and down your arm. You’d never been this close to him. Never pressed up next to him, with his hand warm on your arm and the scent of his cologne and soap drugging you to fall deeper for him. Never under a blanket with him, never under the stars, never so intimately alone.

“Hey,” Dean lifted your chin so your eyes would focus on his. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just...this is just a room. I’d rather have something….” He gestured to the tent around you. “Something special.”

Your heart was pounding and your mouth dry as you nodded, trying to respond but fighting a little dash of fear as Dean’s eyes swept across your cheeks, down to your lips, and back to to your eyes. His lips parted slightly and you took a shallow breath, your own lips parting in response. He moved hesitantly, watching for any sign of rejection as he brushed his lips against yours. The bit of fear was gone instantly as you closed your eyes with a weak hum, the initial press igniting a desire inside both of you. Your heart was beating so quickly that you didn’t know if it was the last gasp of oxygen or Dean’s kiss that was making you feel so wonderfully lightheaded.

As he pulled away your eyes opened slightly. Dean was looking down at you shyly, his arms tight around your shoulders. You smiled and nodded slightly, calming his fear that he’d mistepped, and a relieved grin broke out on his face. You tilted your face up to meet his, his lips softer than you imagined as they pressed heavier against yours. His nose slid past your nose, smushing into your cheek as he held you tighter, deep breathes rising between you. It was the perfect first kiss- soft, and confident, and slow. Everything was gone- the bunker, the movie, the tent. All that was left was the sweet man kissing you so gently, his lips parting yours slightly just long enough for you to wish for what would come next.

It was magic.

Dean’s lips left your’s after half a minute, not wanting to move too fast. Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds, unable to open as you felt a rush throughout your limbs. When you opened your eyes Dean had that same elated grin on his face.

“Something like that,” His voice was low as he brushed a piece of hair behind your hair. You nodded, unable to hide your giggle as you settled your head on his shoulder. Dean took a sip of his beer and sighed, a content smile on his face as an action scene began to unfold on the screen.

Neither of you spoke for awhile, finishing your beers as you relaxed into the blankets. You didn’t pay attention to a single line on the screen though, your eyes drifting around as you tried to memorize the glowing lights, the soft cocoon, and the feeling of the amazing man holding you. A little shiver ran through you and you stifled a giggle, elated that this was real.

“What?” His voice soft as he looked down at you, his hands moving to rest on your waist. His thighs pressed against yours, shifting you both on your sides to pull you even closer. You curved into him, setting your hands on his chest as the blanket slid over your arm.

“This is perfect,” You whispered. Dean smiled, blushing a little which made him even more adorable. You hesitantly reached out and set your hand on his cheek, pulling his face down to your’s.

That next kiss was even better than the first.

**Author's Note:**

> Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of evansrogerskitten. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post.


End file.
